


The Last Gods

by PatrickBatemansLittleChow



Category: Destiny (Video Game)
Genre: Bromance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Gen, Loss, Multi, OC, Revenge, Uldren Sov being a pissbaby, War, charming asshole, comedic relief, ghost - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-06
Updated: 2016-03-06
Packaged: 2018-05-25 03:35:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6178717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PatrickBatemansLittleChow/pseuds/PatrickBatemansLittleChow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A decorated Titan of the Vanguard, Atlas Cassidy finds himself facing dangers he never dreamed of. From the annihilation of the traveler, and the chaos brought on by Crota...To the fight between the heart and the head. The Last Gods explores the Destiny narrative in a new perspective, detailing the action and the emotion of this vast universe. <br/>Feedback welcome (encouraged even)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The Ace 254 drifted gracefully on it’s carefully engineered axis, turning it’s nearly 800 tonne galvanized steel body out of the sun’s rays. The neverending blanket of stars pirouetted around it, the backdrop to a play most beautiful. The brightest and boldest humans to ever live settled in for their artificial night. 

  As they pulled their synthetic wool quilts to their chins, and listened to the now habitual whirr of the mechanics contained not an inch from their tired heads, they could almost convince themselves they were back home. Back on Earth, being lulled to slumber by the planet’s natural noises and cycles. 

  But try as he might, Thomas Cassidy could not. 

  He could not grow accustom to the constant hum of the station, the view of cold unending space at every porthole. He could not allow himself to feel peace trapped inside the thin metal walls, where uncertainty and mystery lay beyond. Though his fellow station mates had accepted their new dwelling, Thomas still fondly recalled earth. Before the collapse, before they abandoned their home planet to brave the final frontier.  

  Thomas remembered watching his father stand before the decrepit farmhouse, assuring his son that he couldn't leave the place. 

“We were born on earth.” The old man had said. “We’re meant to die here. That's the way God intended.”

 Thomas scoffed, staring into the abyss from the porthole by his bed. “God.” He mumbled.  _ Where was god when the world died?  _ He thought.  _ When the world needed him most and creatures born from nightmares demolished his once most precious creation?  _ He’d seen much of the galaxy, bore witness to horror’s and spectacles he would never have believed possible...But even in the vastness of the universe, god was just too big a possibility. A prospect he couldn't quite wrap his belief around. 

__ Nearly twenty years had passed since that last day at the farmhouse. 20 years since he felt soil beneath his feet, and the Texas air in his lungs. He’d wanted to be a farmer growing up, like his father, and his grandfather, and his great grandfather before that. Now, farming was left up to  the engineers and biologists. Conducting genetic experiments beyond his brain capacity to make a crop yield he could never accomplish in a hundred years on earth dirt. In comparison, Thomas was a simple man. A doctor, giving the injured and the sick the human touch a robot could never replicate. Though the robots were efficient, there was something very clinical about the way the mended the wounded. Something cold. No room for small talk or emotion. Just fix the issue, and away with you. Lucky for Thomas, those robots had to be taught. Besides...If it weren't for his wife’s distrust of robots, they would have never met. She was fighting in the Mercury War, and came close to having her leg blown clean off. After such a long fight against the vex, it was no surprise she shut off every Exo who approached her. Fortunately, Thomas was quick to stumble to her side and stammer out an introduction. They’d been inseparable ever since.

   “What’s on your mind, Tom?” 

   He turned at the voice, his mood instantly improving as Selvala herself sauntered in. “Funnily enough...You.” 

   She laughed, rolling her eyes. “I’m sure.” 

   “No it’s true.” he said, rising from his seat on the bed. “You always are.” 

   “Well for the time being shift your attention to you two sons.” She said with a playful grin. “They need to be tucked in by their daddy.” 

   “Yes, ma'am.” He said compliantly, kissing her cheek before departing. He made his way to the metal door that was covered in stickers and banners, slipping through as it wooshed open. 

  The boys were leaping from bed to bed, laughing and screaming wildly. 

  “Alright now, settle ‘er down, boys.” Thomas warned, with his hands on his hips. 

  “But dad...We ain't sleepy yet.” Jaxon said, barely able to get the words out as he laughed. 

   “You ‘arent’ sleepy yet.” Thomas corrected. 

   “But dad you say ain't all the time.” Atlas inquired, tilting his head and lifting a corner of his mouth in confusion. Thomas saw himself in the boy as he prodded for answers. 

  “Your mother doesn't appreciate it. Say’s y’all need to be all proper like.” 

  “‘You all.’” Atlas teased with a grin. 

  “I’ll tell you what…’You all’ are rascals!” He darted to Jaxon, tickling him as he squealed in delight. 

   “Atlas help!” He giggled. 

   His older brother leapt to his aid, climbing atop his father and trying to pry his big hands from his brother. Thomas caught his eldest son, tickling him too. The boys were a fit of laughter, turning red in the face. 

  “Well this doesn't sound like tucking in.” Selvala shouted over the squeals. Thomas and his boy’s all looked shamefully at Selvala, who shook her head and clucked her tongue with a smirk. 

  “It’s bedtime, boys.” She said. “For all of us.” She gave her husband a wink, leaving the room as quickly as she entered. 

   Thomas put Jaxon in his bed, and carried Atlas to the other. “Your mother is right. It’s getting late. Growing boys need sleep.” 

   “I don’t like the night time.” Atlas protested. 

   “The nighttime is nothing to be afraid of, Atlas.” 

   “But the Fallen come out at night.” He said. “What if the fallen come and blow up the station?”

   “Don’t you go frettin’ ‘bout that.” Thomas said, stroking back the child’s dark hair. “We have alarms and patrols set up so that don’t happen.” 

  “What if they blow up the patrols?” 

  “Well then your mom will kill ‘em all.” 

  That seemed to brighten Atlas’ mood, and he nodded his tired head. “One day I’ll kill them too.” 

  Thomas furrowed his brow, sighing gently. “Violence may not be what you're suited to.” He explained. “Your mother...You see she was raised in a different time. Being violent was unavoidable. You and Jaxon...This is a safe time. You don't need to be violent.” 

  “Okay, Dad.” Atlas murmured, his eyelids drooping. Thomas smiled at his son, kissing his forehead. 

  “Goodnight, son.” He said. He repeated the ritual with Jaxon, and shut the light as he left the room. 

   He heaved a sigh, hoping what he told them was true. He hoped, and prayed with every ounce of belief left in him that this was indeed a safe time. That his children would know a time of peace. If there was a god, he would spare them from a life of pain and anguish.  _ If there is a god  _ Thomas thought to himself.  _ He has them destined for something great.  _

 


	2. Chapter 2

~10 Years Later~

  “Cassidy I swear to Christ…” Commander Wynn threatened over the comms. “If you don’t get back to base this instant I will have you personally executed for treason before the entire galactic court.”

  “Relax.” Atlas chuckled, rolling his ship to avoid a charging ketch. It grazed the bottom of his craft, a horrible screech permeating through the rabble of guns and violence outside. “Well that ain’t good...” 

   He maneuvered his way through the swarm of fallen ships, destroying them with ease as he flew through the battlefield. 

   “If the Kell’s ketch goes down…” Atlas continued. “The Fallen will scatter.” 

   “How in the hell are you planning on grounding a Kell’s ketch?” The commander asked. 

   Atlas shrugged, and scoffed. “Haven’t decided yet. 

   “I haven't lost a rookie in 30 years!” The commander screamed. “I don’t plan on starting now. Get your ass back here!” His smoke filled lungs sounded ready to burst with anger. Atlas’ grin grew larger at his superior’s rage. 

   “Sorry, sir. I got a war to win.” 

   “You don’t know war! This isn't a simulation back at the tower. This is real life!”

   “Oh I know. That’s exactly why I ain’t sittin’ back at base muddlin’ through papers and charts like you. I’m enactin’ a course of action.” 

   “You’re an idiot Cassidy! If your mother could see you now…” 

   “With all due respect, commander if my mother could see me now it would be on the victory parade at the tower because this war would already be done with.” Atlas circled the top of the Kell’s Ketch, spotting the Kell himself posted at the helm.

   “Who the hell do you think you are, kid?!” He demanded. 

   “Atlas Cassidy. Son of the meanest bitch to walk the stars, and a Grade A certified lunatic.” With that, he gave a loud shout of excitement, and wrenched his controls southward. Laughing manically as he began the pile drive into the cockpit of the ketch. At the last second before impact, Atlas crammed on his helmet and ejected from his ship and let it crash into the waiting Kell below. The sweet sound of an explosion signaled Atlas’ descent, as tumbled through the broken cockpit window and rolled across the floor. Smoke and flame filling the air, Atlas coughed as he tried to catch his breath. 

  The Kell gave a scream, barrelling out from beneath the wreckage. Enraged, he started charging towards the stunned Atlas. Atlas fumbled at his back, reaching for his gun. He unloaded a full clip into the Kell, barely phasing him. On instinct alone, Atlas pulled back his fist, and with all his strength delivered a bone-shattering punch to the growling mouth of the Kell. Atlas swore, cradling his hand, as the Kell fell to the ground and chattered angrily in the strange fallen language. Spewing blood from his cavernous mouth, the kell once more screamed at Atlas. 

  Again, atlas punched at the kell. Even more furious, The Kell threw himself at the young soldier, only to have his target side step, leaving the kell to crash through the broken window. Atlas scrambled to the controls, pushing them as far down as they would go. The Bow of the ketch dipped towards the ground, The Kell sliding down it’s metal surface. Cursing as he went, the kell went flailing off the end of the ship, doomed to splatter on the hot Venus soil below. 

  Atlas clambered atop the falling ketch, stabbing the rusted metal with his tactical knife. Planting his posterior on the metal, Atlas gripped the knife lodged firmly into the ketch, and awaited the ride of his life. 

  
  


“I lost comms with him.” Commander Wynn growled, chewing his cigar as he flew into fallen territory to confirm the death of the young soldier. “If I can recover the body I will.” He shook his head, already seeing the remains of fallen ships below him. “What a fucking idiot…” he mumbled. 

The commander turned the corner, two squad ships flanking him, and what he saw made him drop his precious cigar. 

Utter chaos. Guns fired every which way, fallen dregs fled like the devil was on their tail, and flames enveloped the field. 

And in the midst of it all…

The Kell’s ketch was diving bow first to the ground, billowing smoke, with the remnants of a ship buried in the cockpit. 

  Sitting atop the rusted front of the ship with one hand gripping the metal and the other waving in the air was Atlas Cassidy; riding the crashing starship to the ground like it was a wild bull. 

  “What is he doing?!” One of the squad pilots yelled. 

  Commander Wynn could only stare in amazement, and shake his head. “Winning a war.” He said solemnly.

  “What happened to the Kell?” Someone else asked. 

  Upon closer inspection, the Kell was seen writhing on the ground below the ketch. As the squad flew closer, a voice crackled on to the comms. 

  “Eat metal you four armed bastard!” Atlas screamed, and his insane laughter filled the frequencies as the Kell’s Ketch made contact with Venus, and what remained of the Kell. 

  The entire ship exploded on impact, spreading debris and bloodied bits of fallen every which way. 

  Commander Wynn sighed heavily, almost sad to see the fool go. “Alert the base. Call Cassidy’s next of kin. He died a hero. An idiot..But a hero nonetheless.” 

  “Yes, sir.” One of the squad members said solemnly. The comms crackled, and a chest cracking cough sounded over the radio. 

  “I ain't dead yet, commander.” Atlas wheezed. 

  “You have got to be kidding me…” The commander whispered. 

  Sure enough, a figure crawled from the wreckage, and limped forward with a fist held high in the air. His armour was falling off him, and his helmet was shattered. He struggled to breathe the toxic venus air. He wouldn't last another few minutes. 

  “One of you get down there and slap a mask on him.”  Wynne said, hand to his temples. That kid would be the death of him. And everyone else if he wasn't careful. 

   “Maybe it’s just my busted comm...But I didn't hear a ‘thank you’, commander.” Atlas teased between breath’s. 

   Wynne couldn't help but smile, and curse the rookie. “You’re crazy, Cassidy.” 

   “You’re welcome.” he replied, and Wynne could see his cheeky grin from behind the oxygen mask.


	3. Chapter 3

~7 years later. Present Day~

  “And that’s how I got promoted to vanguard commander.” Atlas finished, giving the class of warlock trainee’s a grin. They applauded enthusiastically, and chattered about his story until Ikora Rey shushed them.

  “Thank you, Commander Cassidy for that…” Ikora sucked a breath in between her teeth. “Wonderful story.” she said finally.

  “Well it was my pleasure.” Atlas replied with a sarcastic grin.

  “Are there any more questions before the commander leaves?”

  “Come on now don’t be shy. Ask me anything.” Atlas pressed.

  Hands shot into the air then, waving exuberantly.

  “You.” Atlas pointed to a lanky looking awoken kid, who grinned widely and pushed his glasses up his pointed nose upon being picked.

  “Is it true that you survived the Venus atmosphere for a whole ten minutes while you waited for oxygen?”

  “Well I wasn't counting. But it sure felt like ten minutes.”

  “That’s impossible.” another student piped in. “Venus atmosphere outside of the terraformed area kills humans within seconds.”

  Atlas shrugged. “I guess I got lucky. Next...you...Exo boy.”

  The Exo’s eyes lit up, and the gears in his exposed neck shifted as he gulped back nervousness. “I read once that you befriended a cabal clan on Phobos, and that you actually led them for a time. Is that true?”

   “I did meet with the Phobos cabal, and they didn’t kill me so...Yeah I guess you could call that friendship.” He pointed to another eager hand, a smile lighting up his face.

   “What’s your gun of choice?” The student asked.

   “Pulse rifle. Can't go wrong. Perfect balance between bolt and automatic. Stable, reliable. Damn good gun. I also like to carry around a cute little Havok number. Pigeon 110. And for good measure...A Gjallarhorn 683.”

   “The Gjallarhorn?!” Someone said in awe. “Those aren't coming out for months yet. How’d you get one?”

   “A gun like that needs testing.” Atlas said simply. “Who better to test it then an expert in destruction?”

   Atlas answered some more questions, ranging from war stories to military tactics. He thought he was finished, when a human girl raised her hand, and instantly began batting her eyes at Atlas.

   “Is there a Mrs. Atlas Cassidy?” She asked, biting at her lip suggestively.

   Atlas chuckled. “Well ain't that a question.” He noted. “No. No there isn't. In my line of work...Relationships can be difficult. The only woman who holds my heart is my mother.”

   There was a bit of a chuckle from the students.

   “No. I’m serious. She taught me everything I know. I talk to her every week. And y’all better do the same. Your mama’s brought you into this world...Lord knows she can take you out just as fast.”

  “Thank you, Commander.” Ikora said, looking annoyed and pleased all at once. “You never fail to entertain.”

   “Damn right.” Atlas agreed with a curt nod. “Speaking of entertainment. Jacky-boy!” Atlas did a twirl, and pointed dramatically to his younger brother. “You an’ me are off to see Ma an Pa Cassidy in...Well once you're done with this class. Gather yer shit and meet me in Hangar 7.”

  Jaxon went beet red with embarrassment, slumping down in his desk. All eyes of his classmates turned to him.

  “That's my little brother.” Atlas said with a grin. “Treat him right or you’ll have me to answer to.”

  With that, Atlas gave the students a casual salute and sauntered out of the class.

 

  “Well, Cass.” Amanda Holliday said as she crawled back out from under Atlas’ ship. She wiped at the bridge of her nose, a streak of grease mingling with the spattering of freckles there. She heaved a sigh, patting the front end of the craft like a cowboy would pat a stallion. “She’s all fixed. Should get you where you need to be.”

   “What was wrong with her?” Atlas asked around a mouthful of sour gummy candy.

   “Frayed wire connecting the warp to the drivers.” She shrugged, jerking her chin at Atlas’ snack.

   He extended the bag to her. “I coulda fixed that.” He mused.

   “I know you could of.” Amanda agreed. “But the tower doesn't pay me to let you fix your own ship.”

   “Right.” He agreed, tossing more candy into his already full mouth.

   “Did you have to embarrass me like that in front of the class?”

   Atlas turned to grin at Jaxon, whose face was twisted into a frown as he approached. “It’s my job as you big brother to embarrass you.”

   “Well cut it out. They already tease me enough as it is.”

   “Do I have to kick some little warlock ass?”

   “Shut up, Atlas.” Jaxon mumbled, pushing past the titan. “Let’s just get out of here.”

   “What’d you do?” Amanda asked, licking the sour powder off her fingers.

   “Hell if I know. Kid’s been touchy as a new trigger lately.”

   “He’s probably home sick.” The shipwright noticed.

   “Maybe.” Atlas shrugged, folding the bag up and handing it to Amanda. “Good thing I can fix that.” He gave the shipwright a high five before clambering up into the cockpit where Jaxon was moping.

   “See you, AC!” Amanda yelled, jogging out of the way for the ship to launch.

   Atlas eased the ship into the air, his stomach still taking a leap of excitement as he took flight. He turned the ship around, pointing it into the darkening sky beyond the Tower. “Setting course for home.” Atlas murmured, punching the coordinates into the nav-system. He sighed, leaning back in his chair and looking to Jaxon who sat slumped and aggravated in the passenger seat.

   “Care to do the honors?” Atlas asked, gesturing to the warp stick.

   Jaxon rolled his eyes, but was soon smiling as he grabbed the stick and pushed it forward. In a blur of stars and space, the ship was blasting off, rocketing to its final destination.

   Atlas chuckled. “It never gets old does it?”

   The smile faded, as Jaxon remembered he was supposed to be surly. “Whatever.” He mumbled, slinking back against the leather seat.

   “What’s your problem?” Atlas asked. “You better not be like this ‘round mom. She’ll kick your ass.”

   “I don’t have a problem.” Jaxon protested.

   “Bullshit. I ain't seen you this sore since dad took your sparrow away when you were ten.”

   “Just forget it, Atlas! Damn I can’t be pissed without a reason?”

   “No you can’t.”

   “Well it’s not something you’d understand anyway. So just drop it and drive.”

   “Or...I could let Maria drive-” Atlas flicked on autopilot, and the robotic femme fatale voice chirped ‘autopilot engaged.’  “-Thank you, Maria- and pick your issue back up.”

   Jaxon groaned, rubbing at his eyes in exasperation. “Jesus just leave it.”

  “Nope. What the hell has got your panties tangled with the stick up your ass?”

   “Fuck off, Atlas!” Jaxon screamed.

   Atlas sat back in his seat, watching as his brothers face twisted with anger. “‘fraid I can’t do that Jax.” He said quietly.

   Jaxon sighed.

   “Tell me what’s wrong, kiddo. Maybe I can help.”

   “You can’t fix everything.”

   “I can damn well try.”

   “Fine. You wanna know how you could fix this?” Jaxon snapped, turning in his seat to glare at his older brother.

   “Yes. I do.”

   “You could have gone to the academy at a normal age like everyone else. You could have followed orders, and been a regular goddamn soldier, and not been a hero on Venus.”

   “What the hell are you talking about, boy?”

   “Ever since you we were kids everyone tells me how I ought to be like you. ‘Jaxon...Why aren't you more like Atlas?’ ‘Atlas would have done it this way.’ ‘When Atlas was your age...’.” Rage filled the young man, and he gritted his teeth. “I’m tired of it. I didn't even want to be a warlock.”

   Atlas felt his heart break for his brother. “I didn't know you felt that way.” He murmured.

   “Yeah well I do. I guess you’ve never felt inadequate.”

   Atlas furrowed his brow, looking into the inky black canopy stretched before the ship.

   “Like I said…” Jaxon continued. “You wouldn't get it.”

   Atlas switched off the autopilot, gripping the controls and switching his focus back to the ship. “

   “Prepare for arrival.” Maria droned, and Atlas didn't even have the heart to murmur a ‘Thank you, Maria.’.


End file.
